PETER IBBETSON
Shifts in the music
I bow my head
They cant believe
The things I’ve read
The blueprints squirreled away.
The Spring preoccupied with snows
And the glitter of Long Ago.
What is it I could have said
When you in the blue hydrangeas stood
To make you understand I could
Read all the tea leaves then.
True dreaming now had come too late
The gates swung shut in all my dreams
The lightning trembled, the earthquake seams
And I bowed down to the earth and prayed
That God in his kindness would spare me the way
To say goodbye to you.
mary angela douglas 20 april 2024
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